Healing Pains
by CashewLuu
Summary: He had to get to Nii-chan, he had to get to Nii-chan. Spinoff of Hitomi Shirou's Family Relations. Mentions of past mpreg, no likey, no clicky!
1. Chapter 1

**Well, here it is. Another Iceland story. **

**Anyways, this was based on Hitomi Shirou's story Family Relations, so if you're okay with mpreg, I suggest you read that before reading this.**

**Disclaimer: Don't own, why Sue and not Dan?**

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He was all alone, it was all he could think of, he was alone and completely naked on the bed, the sheets bunched up in his still trembling fist. He needed to get out of his home, as fast as possible,even though he looked as if a flock of puffins attacked him. He had to get to nii-chan. He had to get to nii-chan.

He had to get to nii-chan.

The battered country got himself out of his bed, his spine throbbing dully with pain as well as other various parts of his body. Tears welled up in his eyes and began to fall down rapidly on his cheeks when he realized what had just happened to him just a few minutes ago. Delicately, he put on his white dress shirt and maroon jacket and pants (at least what was left of them). The ribbon he usually tied neatly around his neck fluttered around aimlessly in the nonexistent breeze, and he didn't have the patience (or the courage) to completely lace up his high boots. Looking around fearfully at his room, he breathed a shaky breath he didn't know he had held.

How could he, the violet eyed country thought angrily, tears dripping out of his eyes and onto his sticky cheeks. He had trusted him so much, and now he was paid back like this.

But first things first. He had to get to his brother's house, now. Iceland stumbled painfully out of the door..

"Norge… I'm hungry, get me something to eat, huh?"

"No way, bastard," was the curt reply from Norway. "Get your own food. I'm not a wife like Tino."

Denmark snorted. "So what? You are practically my wife, y'know."

Norway ignored the last comment and simply sighed through his nose as he opened the newspaper and started to flip through the thin pages. Peace and quiet reigned… for about a second.

"So? Are you going to get me the food or not?"

An icy glare was directed at Denmark from dull graphite gray eyes, followed by a swift smack to the head with the rolled up newspaper.

"Shut it about the food, Anko. You're really annoying today."

"So? You know love me," Denmark laughed happily, hitting Norway hard on his back, "I mean, c'mon, you had twins of my own seed, don't deny it Norge."

"Don't bring Olav and Radulf into this," Norway replied sharply, vying away from the Dane's hand. Then, the smaller Nordic relaxed as he folded his hands together in front of his stomach.

Only a few years ago, it had been swollen and full with the twins the Nordic country loved so much. But, the twins were six now, and incredibly rebellious as well. They weren't so cute anymore when they were squeezing one of Norway's favorite fairies "by accident" or smashing the lamp in the living room to bits with far's battle axe. Sometimes, the seemingly emotionless country wished that his children could become babies again; when they were so sweet, agreeable, and had limited mobility.

"Danemark," Norway began, hesitating a bit towards the end.

"Hvad?"

The Norwegian bit his bottom lip slightly before continuing, "What do you think about having another kid?"

There was a tense silence between the two.

"Well?" a hint of anxiousness tinted the normally monotone voice, and although Denmark wasn't exactly the sharpest tool in the shed, the country could tell that his little "wife" really wanted this.

"I- I guess we could, but Norge… isn't this a bit fast? I mean, it took us a while to decide on the twins, and now you suddenly want-"

"If you don't want any more, then you can see just say it," Norway interrupted, his voice back to its emotionless state. He opened the newspaper again, "I was just asking."

Another moment of silence passed amongst the two of them, but this one awkward and uncomfortable. Several more minutes passed, when suddenly the phone rang.

"I'll get it," Norway said, reaching out to the small coffee table the telephone was situated on. He picked up the receiver, but before he could utter a "hello" the person at the other end of the line started to talk.

"Hallo? Nii-chan? Are you there?"

"Island?"

"Nii-chan, I'm coming over to your house right now, you're at home, right?" Iceland's voice asked. It sounded edgy and scared, a tone Norway had never heard from his younger brother. "Nii-chan, I'm almost there, please don't go anywhere," Iceland pleaded.

And there was that name Iceland kept calling him. Nii-chan. Norway remembered how he had asked the violet-eyed nation to call him that name back when they found out that they were brothers. Of course, Iceland refused until the very end, even when the other Scandinavian nations had attempted to make him call them as nii-chan as well. Why would he suddenly want to call him that now?"

"Island, what happened?"

There was a loud choking sound at the end. Norway pressed the receiver close to his ear.

"I-I'll tell you later, nii-chan," Iceland answered, his voice crackling with static.

"What? I can't hear you too well. Island?"

The dial tone rang ominously in Norway's ear.

"Norge, is something wrong with the little brat?"

Denmark's (annoying) voice startled the Nordic nation, and he turned towards his husband.

"Don't call him a brat. Something happened to Island, but I'm too sure what."

The sunflower blond simply shrugged.

"Whatever. Hey, I'll pick up Olav and Radulf, 'kay?"

Norway didn't respond, still deep in thought as to what could have happened to his younger brother. Denmark took that as a yes, and started to leave towards the door.

"See you later, Norge, have a nice time with your bror," Denmark called loudly before shutting the door.

After hearing the car start and head off, Norway looked at the clock on the wall. It was early afternoon. The thought of Iceland being hurt wouldn't go away from his mind. Sure, Island was slightly sick with a cold, but he never complained too much about it. Why did he sound so scared over the phone just now?

Sighing, Norway tried to dismiss the phone call from Iceland and looked down at his stomach once again. A new worry began to form in his head. Denmark seemed worried when he had brought up the topic about having another kid. Sure, the pregnancy had been taxing on the Norwegian, but it was all worth it in the end. Norway longed for a baby for some reason. Maybe it was because of that intoxicating, milky scent that seemed to enervate from a newborn, or just because he missed being able to hold something he loved in his arms and wouldn't squirm or be too heavy to hold in the first place. Norway felt an aching loneliness for a second, when suddenly he heard a loud, incessant knocking at his door.

Norway rushed to the door, already knowing who was behind it. He opened it, and immediately had to catch a falling Iceland into his arms. The gossamer haired boy had passed out. The Nordic country turned his younger brother over face up, whose head fell limply, and his gray eyes widened considerably.

The younger nation had purple- yellowish bruises along his jaw and near his eye sockets. His prized ribbon was hanging lifelessly on his neck, where the pale column of flesh was covered in… were those hickeys? Iceland's hair was messed up even more than usual at least, and his lips were red and covered in dried blood. Meanwhile, his white dress shirt was tattered, and his jacket slightly torn at the stitches. The white boots he was wearing was scuffed and his pants were also shredded at certain places.

Norway gulped mentally as he realized why Iceland sounded so terrified over the phone. Whatever had happened to him could not have been good, and he lightly shook his brother.

"Island… "

The small nation stirred slightly. Then, Iceland fluttered his snow-white eyelashes and opened his eyes ever so slowly. As soon as they seemed to see Norway however, the violet orbs began to shift around faster than usual, and Norway could feel the pulse of Iceland's heart begin racing.

"W-who- "

"Island! It's me, Norge, your onii-chan!"

Iceland began to thrash about wildly, almost kicking Norway.

"Get away from me! Get away!"

Norway attempted to grasp Iceland's wrists to prevent them from punching him, but as soon as he had his hands around them, Iceland panicked ten times more.

"Please, please stop!" he screamed, tears were beginning to stream down his bruised face. "I don't want this, please, just stay away! Get out, get out, get OUT!"

The shocked nation quickly released his hands, and saw his little brother fall down to the floor; scurrying to the nearest wall and tuck his legs underneath his chin, hugging them against his chest. Norway could see that he was shivering.

"It's your bror, Norge, " Norway repeated, he himself scared as well. He reached out his hand to touch Iceland, who tried to shy away from the outreaching appendage. Sighing, Norway took in a deep breath.

"_Sulla meg litt, du mamma mi_

_Skal du få snor på skjorta di_

_Vil du ha gule, vil du ha blå…"_

Iceland snapped his head upwards when he recognized that familiar tune. He stared at Norway before his eyes started to water again. Norway walked up closer to the traumatized country, and hugged him in his arms.

_"__Vil du ha blanke, skal du det få_

_På skjorta di_

_Du mamma mi…"_

Iceland started to sob, as Norway continued to hold Iceland in his arms, singing quietly lulling his Bror to the dark depths of slumber.

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**Well, there it is. Should I continue? For now, I'll just put it down as complete. If you'd like more, just click the review button and I'll see if I want to add more.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Well, I got... a good amount of reviews, so I decided to upload the next chapter. Yeah, I already wrote it out, but wasn't too sure if people would like the first part soooo yeah. :/ **

**Okay, so here it is: the second chapter of Healing Pains~**

**Disclaimer: Don't own, or else Iceland and Hong Kong would have already made it into the anime, end of story.**

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Norway shut the door quietly so he wouldn't disturb Iceland. He had sent the boy to the guest room and given him a set of his old pajamas as well. Meanwhile, the said country was asleep now, exhausted from whatever ordeal he had suffered through.

Now Norway was really scared. What exactly in hell (and not the city) had happened to his little bror? The sound of the door opening and a loud, "Mor, we're home!" and an exceptionally obnoxious, "Norge, I'm hungry!" gave Norway something else to think about.

"Olav, don't think about walking in with your boots still on, and Radulf, let go of the rabbit, it'll die if you keep it"

"Mor~ I don't wanna," Radulf whined, his blue eyes sparkling with crocodile tears, "Far told me that I can keep it."

The fist around the poor rabbit's ears tightened, the victim emitting a shrill squeak of pain.

Norway gave the infamous "Ice Glare of Death" towards the accused male, his arms pretzeled together tightly.

"Danemark…" he started ominously.

"Okay, okay!" Denmark cried, raising his hands up in surrender, "Radulf, let go of tonight's dinner outside."

The tall Dane was immediately met with a smack on the head.

"Ow! The hell was that for?"

"Stop goofing around, or you don't get lunch. Now go help the twins release the rabbit."

Denmark grumbled for a moment but picked up Olav and Radulf onto his shoulders (with Radulf still gripping the poor rabbit) and went out the door, careful not to drop them or hit their heads on the doorway.

Norway sighed but quickly went over to the guest room where Iceland was still resting in. He opened the door tentatively, looking through the small crack he had created. The albino was still sleeping, and Norway did not feel the need to bother him. He shut the door as quietly as possible, and turned, only to be met with a loud, "BOO!" from his family.

The surprised Nordic jumped slightly, to which Olav, Radulf, and Denmark fell to the ground laughing. It was almost never when the calm country was scared, or even shocked just a little bit.

"Denmark!" Norway hissed angrily.

"Norge, calm down!" Denmark said loudly, too loudly, "Why are you whispering?"

Norway was about to respond, when he heard a loud whimpering from behind the door.

"Mor, what's behind the door?" Radulf asked curiously.

"Yeah, what's behind it?" Olav asked also, echoing his twin brother.

Denmark too was staring at Norway with a curious expression on his face, and the gray-eyed nation knew that his lover was just as interested as his kids were, but for a completely different reason.

Norway sighed and took in a deep breath before replying, "Uncle Iceland is over for awhile, but-"

"Uncle Iceland came over!" the rambunctious twins cried out happily, "Did he bring over Mr. Puffin?"

"You are not going to try to attempt any sort of experiment on your uncle's pet, do you understand? Your uncle is still getting over that, and no, Mr. Puffin is not here today. Besides, Uncle Iceland is tired, he's trying to sleep."

"Awww…"

"C'mon, guys, let's go have some lunch. How does smørrebrød sound?"

"Yeah!"

"Okay, c'mon then," Denmark said cheerfully, gently pushing them towards the kitchen. Then, the sunflower blonde turned towards Norway with a serious face, something Norway almost never saw. His eyes stared dead on at his lover's face with a look that clearly said he wanted Norway to explain himself later. As soon as it had happened, Denmark walked to the kitchen with the twins.

Norway turned to open the door to Iceland's room. There were no more whimpers, but he could see a shivering figure cowering in the far left corner of the room.

"Island, why aren't you sleeping?"

All Norway could hear were more whimpers. The older country walked over to his younger brother and sat close to him, but made no attempt to touch him like before.

"H-he laughed at me… before he left," Iceland whispered, his violet eyes wide and fearful. He clutched his head with his hands pressing his head to his knees, "He just laughed, and called me…" the boy cringed.

"Island-" Norway made the mistake of touching his shoulders.

Iceland snapped his head upwards and tried to squeeze himself even further into the corner.

"Don't-"

"No. Island, did he hit you?" Norway asked, he himself not knowing exactly who "he" was.

Iceland halted his attempts at making himself as small as possible, but nodded slowly.

"Okay, I'm going to ask you a very grown up question, okay? Did he rape you?"

The soft sobbing noises from his brother were all Norway needed for an answer.

"God…"

Norway turned around and to his added shock saw Denmark standing near the doorway holding a sandwich on a plate in his hand.

"Denmark, not now. Just go to the kitchen," Norway deadpanned, still looking at Iceland's crying face.

For once the Dane didn't argue and left without another word. Norway directed all his attention to his little brother again.

"Was it a human?"

Iceland shook his head.

The world stopped for Norway.

If it wasn't a human…

"Who one was he?" Norway asked, his voice cold and as hard as steel, his grip on Iceland's shaking shoulders threatening to tighten.

Iceland was outright sobbing, tears wetting his face completely. He shook his head fervently.

"He said he would kill me and anyone I told! I don't want to kill you, nii-chan!" Iceland screamed.

Norway hugged his younger brother's neck, letting Iceland's head rest in the crook of his neck.

"No, Island, he's not going to kill you or me. Just tell me who it was," Norway pleaded in a calming whisper.

The Nordic felt his brother still shake his head no, and decided to let it drop there.

There was a UN meeting scheduled for next week. There was a glimmer of hope that he might be able to catch whoever did this to Iceland, but meanwhile… Norway rubbed comforting circles around his younger brother's back.

"Are you hungry, Iceland?"

There was a pause before the gossamer haired boy nodded yes shyly.

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**Ooohhh, who's da nation who raeped Iceland? 0_o; Anyways, if you think you might know, just tell me in a review. **


	3. Chapter 3

**Ah... the third chapter... **

**There isn't much going on in this chapter though, but eh, enjoy~**

**(also, I forgot to mention quite something back in the last chapter. In case anyone was wondering, a smørrebrød is a type of Danish, open faced sandwich that is supposed to taste really good. As for the random Danish and Norwegian scattered across the last two... well, they seem obvious enough right?)**

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The remainder of the week passed quickly, as did the love marks all over Iceland's neck.

If only the trauma could go away as fast, Norway thought bitterly to himself.

After a few days, Iceland started to venture out of his room, playing with Olav and Radulf, who constantly questioned what happened to Mr. Puffin and why he wasn't there. Denmark didn't bother the boy too much, only giving a sarcastic comment or a reprimand to be more careful with the kids here and there. Norway didn't know whether to enjoy this new side of Denmark or start phoning a psychiatrist right away. For the moment though it made things easier.

Iceland seemed okay, for anyone who didn't know him well. However, he never let anyone touch him except the twins. If anyone tried to, he would shy away, but on the off chance someone actually managed to touch him, the violet-eyed boy would panic. Eventually, Norway mended his brother's clothing, but scrapped the shirt (it was torn in too many places).

Norway silently sipped his tea, looking out the window quietly. Today was a bleary gray, somewhat similar to England's own weather. There would probably be rain, the somewhat emotionless country mused. He turned to see Iceland silently reading a book. Norway had the tugging urge to ask Iceland once more who exactly had attacked him, but knew better than to do so. In the few times he had tried to, Iceland tried to change subjects as fast as possible, his eyes starting to dart towards the corners and other shadowy areas in the house.

"Island, do you think you can make it to the UN meetings in two days?"

Iceland froze from turning his page midway. He looked up to his brother and gulped.

"I-I don't k-know…"

"Is it because he'll be there?"

The albino nodded nervously, biting on his lower lip until it turned white-yellow.

Norway sighed, putting down his tea mug and adjusting his barrette.

"Island, you need to say something. You can't keep this secret to yourself, you know."

"I know it's just that," Iceland let out a shaky breath, "Well, it's embarrassing…"

"You of all people should know that many nations out there have been raped when another of their kind invades their land. Nothing to be ashamed of."

Iceland cringed when Norway uttered the word, "rape", but shook his head.

"I know that. I mean it's just… just… I'm so scared," Iceland said, whispering the last part, shutting his eyes tightly, two tears leaking out slowly.

Norway walked up to Iceland, and seated himself next to his younger brother.

"I know you're scared Island, but nothing will happen to either of us, or anyone else who will know. The only harm will only be to whoever did this to you. Obviously, nothing serious that can hurt his people will occur, but rest assured, he will not be left alone," Norway said clearly. Then slowly, gently laying a hand on Iceland's head Norway added, "Island, I love you, and I will do anything to make sure this person will get everything he deserves."

Iceland wiped his tears, but several more took their places. Laying his head in his hands, the small nation wept, out of anger, frustration, humiliation, sadness, and every other reason anything with human feeling would cry for. Except joy.

Anything but joy.

On Monday, the day before the UN meeting, Norway found himself on a plane to Iceland's home. Norway suggested if Iceland would like to come back with him, but the young nation vehemently refused, not wanting old memories to haunt him.

So Norway would go to Iceland's house, straighten things up, and then go to the meeting, which was taking place in Belgium this time, from there. That was the plan, for the time being at least.

The plane finally landed, and Norway unbuckled his seatbelt, ready to bolt off to his brother's home.

Several agonizing hours later, Norway found himself in front of his brother's homely abode, looking through the potted plants for Iceland's spare key. At last, the shiny silver tool was found, and Norway stuck it into the keyhole before turning the doorknob and entering the house.

It was quiet.

That was all Norway could really say for the house. There wasn't anything too bizarre. The occasional mess that Iceland would never clean up was here and there, but no signs of struggles appeared anywhere. However, Norway thought it would be best to rearrange some of the furniture in case it brought back too many traumatizing memories for his younger brother.

Norway was trying (struggling) to move Iceland's loveseat couch in the living room when he heard a pathetic sqwak come from the kitchen.

"Mr. Puffin?"

"Yeah, who else would it be?"

Norway never got used to his brother's unusual pet. The voice of an Italian mobster coming out from a little tiny puffin was somewhat disturbing. Slowly, a small black puffin with a ribbon around its neck waddled into the living room.

"Christ, what took you so long?" it mumbled, flying up onto the couch, "Haven't seen Kid in a long time, d'you know where he is?"

"His name is Island, and he's staying at my place. Don't you know what happened?"

The puffin shrugged, or at least as much as a bird could with wings.

"Hell as if I know. Kid let me out of the house so I could fly around a bit, but by the time I came back out, he was gone."

"He was raped."

A silence was met with Norway's rather blunt comment.

"Christ."

Norway nodded solemnly.

"Kid okay?"

Norway didn't respond.

Mr. Puffin looked away to the door for a moment, but then turned back to Norway and replied, "Well, in the meantime, do you have any food? I'm starving."

Later, after Norway had finished redesigning the interior furniture in all of Iceland's house as well as giving Mr. Puffin some food, and was heading to the last room, Iceland's bedroom.

Slowly, the Nordic nation opened the door to the room, and peeked his head in. The room looked normal. At first.

As Norway approached the bed in the center of the room, he noticed the open window and the faint smell of sweat permeated through his nose. Norway saw the messed up sheets on the bed. Some parts were wrinkled, while others were crinkled with hundreds of tiny creases… as if someone had grabbed them in a fist. Lower on the bed, Norway found blood, dried and dark brown now, on the same sheets. The blonde lifted the sheets and took a tentative sniff. The odd salty scent of cum.

Oh Island, Norway thought, dropping to his knees, still grasping the filthy covers in his trembling hands.

Island…

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**Wahahahaha! Is done! (I mean the chapter not the story) Every one of the chapters have been getting shorter and shorter though... o_0;**

**Besides that, I might be late in uploading the next chapter since I'm going on a trip with my family up in Northern California.**

**Well, see ya!**

**BTW, I totally forgot the disclaimer: Don't own, wryyyyyy suuuueeee?**


	4. Chapter 4

**I am back baby, yeah! I came back from San Fran, and it was soo much fun, even though I was sick and sounded like a defective foghorn whenever I spoke.**

**So here you guys go, chapter four.**

**Disclaimer: *emergency news flash* Just this morning, a man from Japan was found dead in front of his computer. The man, Hidekaz Himaruya, was famous for his webcomic known as Hetalia. It is unknown how exactly he has died, although investigators suspect Hetalia's new owner, CashewLuu, to be responsible in some way or another. (shot'd)**

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Iceland tried to sleep, turning this way and that, but stopped when Radulf started to mumble in his sleep. After Norway left, Iceland had been sleeping in between the twins, finding being with the children rather comforting if a bit exhausting. Of course, the real reason behind sleeping with Olav and Radulf was because he was scared to death if he slept by himself. When Norway was still at his home, he would sit next to Iceland's bed until the boy would lull to sleep.

Olav began coughing before turning to the left on Iceland's right side. Iceland brought the blanket up a bit to cover the little blonde child more. He checked on Radulf as well, but found him to be fine. Pausing for a moment, Iceland stared at the sleeping Norwegian-Dane.

When Norway had first told him that he was pregnant, instead of being happy for his brother's news, Iceland was scared for his older brother's life. As the curve of his brother's stomach grew, Iceland tried to avoid his nii-chan as much as he could. Waiting in front of the hospital room on the important day was absolutely nerve wracking for the gossamer haired boy and it didn't help having Finland chattering nonstop as well as Sweden giving those creepy glares to him. Afterwards, though, when he saw the little blue bundles in his brother's tired arms, he couldn't help but feel giddy as well as relieved. Iceland loved his little nephews, and found playing with them an interesting experience. It sometimes made him wonder what it would be like if he ever had children himself.

But then he- No, Iceland thought fiercely. He shouldn't think about it…. But the memories kept flooding his senses, too fast for him to shut it out. It was like trying to shut the front door of the house when a flood was occurring. It leaked slowly through the cracks, but then broke down his barriers, drowning him.

It was supposed to be a normal night. He let out Mr. Puffin at eight at night like he usually did.

"See ya, Kid," it muttered before flapping away.

Iceland wanted to tell him his name was Iceland, not kid, but knew better than to do so.

After waiting until Mr. Puffin was out of view, Iceland went back in his home, heading straight for his room. He was done with all of his paperwork for now, didn't have to prepare for meetings with his boss, and was free to do anything he wanted to until the next morning.

The youngest Nordic nation picked up a random book from his shelf, not knowing anything better to do, and opened the box of salmiakki that he kept in his drawer by his bedside. Popping in one of the salty licorices into his mouth, Iceland flipped to the first page of the book and began reading.

An hour or so passed before Iceland realized how stuffy the room was and opened the window to let the fresh air in. The cool air made its way through the uncomfortably hot room, and Iceland relaxed into reading again, but then heard his front door opening.

That was strange. No one was supposed to come over to his home that night, and his boss usually called before coming to his home.

"Hello?" Iceland called out, sitting up more straight and setting his book aside.

There was no answer to his question, and the violet-eyed boy started towards his front door.

However, before he could reach his destination, his mysterious visitor met him.

"What are you doing here at this time?" Iceland demanded, crossing his arms.

He shrugged, before looked towards the younger nation with grinning eyes.

"I just wanted to visit you, Island, is that such a crime?"

"No… but you don't have any reason to visit me, especially at night," Iceland countered.

He licked his lips before stepping towards the boy.

"That's where you're wrong. I have so many, many reasons for tonight… so many reasons…"

Iceland began getting scared. He took a small step backwards, but then started to stumble slightly.

"Here, let me help you Island," he said, grabbing Iceland's wrist.

Iceland didn't want to remember what happened there, but the memories continued to play in his head like a bad slasher movie set on replay for the scene where the victim is dragged off for unspeakable tortures. He remembered that his back was pressed against the wall almost painfully. He thought he would be punched or slapped, and shut his eyes as tightly as possible, but didn't feel any sort of pain. Instead, chapped, worn lips were on his own.

Eyes opening wide, Iceland attempted to struggle, but yelped as his hair was yanked back roughly to keep him in place. While the boy cried out from the pain, his attacker took the chance to slip his tongue into Iceland's mouth. The young nation was startled badly by the sudden appearance of the wet muscle in his mouth. As the foreign tongue started to move around, Iceland was about to bite the offending appendage, but then suddenly moaned as a hand began wrapping around a certain part of him to make the Nordic forget for a moment what was happening.

The violet-eyed boy felt his intruder's lips smile at the reaction the Icelandic had. Then, as soon as it had started, he pulled away, a small strand of saliva attaching the two of them before breaking.

The next series of events were something Iceland wanted to forget. He wanted to forget how he dragged him to his bedroom and threw him onto the bed. He wanted to forget how he pulled his pants off and tossed them aside. He wanted to forget how viciously he was kissed, how roughly he was turned around. He wanted to forget the burning pain that seared through him as he was taken forcefully, the way he was pound into so violently that his face slammed into his bed's headboard hard enough to create horrible bruises. He wanted to forget that horrible, ugly laugh and the names he was called during the entire ordeal. He wanted to forget the feeling of his own blood dripping down his thighs after he was left alone in his pain, the way his body betrayed his feelings, the final threats he received if he ever told anyone of that night.

Iceland gripped his head tightly, curling into a small ball. He felt like crying, but all that came out were quiet whimpers. Then, a strong, urgent tug ceased Iceland's panic attack.

"Uncle Iceland…" Olav mumbled sleepily, his blue eyes unfocused and dazed with drowsiness, "Are you having a nightmare?"

Iceland froze for a moment but nodded slowly and turned more to his nephew and patted his hair.

"Yes, I did," Iceland whispered, "But it's okay now, it's over."

Olav smiled slightly, but it quickly disappeared in favor of a yawn. The little child smacked his lips once, but then closed his eyes slowly.

"Hope y'don't have anymore nightmares, Uncle Iceland…"

"Yeah…"

Olav was out like a light, and Iceland turned upwards to look at the ceiling and sighed quietly.

"I hope so too."

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**Yay for a crappy filler chapter! Sorry guys, my imagination's on hold right now (needs to see more hetalia fanart to function), but the next chapter will take place in the UN meeting, so yeah!**

**BTW, I feel kind of stupid to admit this but in actuality, I really have no idea who Iceland's raper might be... (phail, I know) but hey, I'm open to suggestions~ Just keep with me peoples, thanks! */wrists***


	5. Chapter 5

**Haaa... finally a new chapter in Healing Pains... ****DON'T SHOOT MEH!**

**Yes, I am sorry, but once again, school is terrible. I never knew that so much homework could exist at once, and this just freshman year of high school! Man, I'm going to have a hell of a time getting through high school...**

**Anyways, I also got sick for the second time in two months, so woohoo for me! Alright then, enough with the complaining, let's get this show on the road, bebeh~**

**disclaimer: don't own.**

* * *

"Iceland, are you okay?"

A silent nod was all the Norwegian received. Norway sank into his seat more, sneaking a quick glance at Denmark, who was with Olav and at the moment was trying to balance a spoon on his nose, and making his son laugh uncontrollably.

"Olav, there are other people on the plane, and Anko, stop acting stupid. Olav, if you're going to continue to act like that, I want you to come over here and sit with me," Norway said in a reprimanding tone, causing both males to halt all actions that might displease the rather intimidating Scandinavian.

"We were just having fun, mor," Olav tried reasoning, Denmark nodding his head vigorously in agreement. When it seemed obvious that Norway wouldn't agree with him, the small Danish-Norwegian attempted a dangerous, but highly successful move: the puppy dog eyes.

"Mor~" he whined, clasping his hand tightly and even adding pouting lips.

_It's super effective_!

"Fine, but I better not catch you doing that again, alright? Your brother is trying to sleep, and so is your uncle," Norway replied, hiding any signs of jumping up and down in glee from his son's adorableness.

"Thank you, Mor!" Olav said, grinning happily to his father rather than Norway.

"Yeah, thanks, Norge!" Denamrk added, winking at his son.

Norway sighed, knowing that the two of them would be causing trouble within minutes. He checked on Radulf who was (thankfully) asleep. Iceland also seemed to be drifting off to sleep as well, his deep violet eyes slowly closing themselves.

Smiling inwardly, Norway pulled the blanket from behind his back to cover his younger brother and looked at his watch. There were at least three more hours before they got anywhere close to Belgium. Taking advantage of the time, the stoic Norwegian picked up a magazine from the back pocket of the seat in front of him, and began reading.

Norway wasn't sure how much time had passed, but was slightly startled when Iceland tugged on his sleeve across the still sleeping form of Radulf.

"… I feel really dizzy…" the teen mumbled, his eyes downcast.

"And so? Is there anything I can do about it?"

"I think I'm going to throw up…"

Within moments Norway had Iceland out of his seat, and guiding him gently yet swiftly into an empty bathroom. Somehow he managed to cram both of them inside the tiny space, where Iceland promptly spat out a mouthful of vomit into the toilet.

"Do you have air sickness?" Norway asked, seemingly emotionless while pounding Iceland's back gently.

The violet-eyed boy spat several times into the toilet to get rid of the awful, bitter taste before shaking his head no.

"I just got really nauseous suddenly, and I felt like throwing up. That's it," Iceland explained, rinsing his mouth at the sink.

The Icelandic tore out a paper towel from the dispenser nearby, and proceeded to wipe his mouth with it before promptly dumping it in the trash. After finishing, the boy turned towards his brother, who simply stood there dumbly.

"Nii- chan, aren't you going to go out now?"

"Hm? Oh, yes, I am. Do you want to stay here a bit longer, Island?"

"No, I'm fine, I'll come out with you."

The rest of the flight was fine, unless Norway wanted to count the incident with Denmark and Olav almost tipping over a food cart, potentially getting the family kicked out of the plane.

Norway didn't.

"Bienvenue, my fellow countries!" Belgium chirped happily, clasping her hands in front of her generously sized bosom, "Let's get this meeting started, allons-y!"

The nations that were currently inside the meeting hall clapped their hands politely, before Germany began listing countries in alphabetical order that were to present.

Slowly, the countries went through rather dull presentations and slideshows that had to do with the economics, well being of their citizens, et cetera. The only interesting things that had occurred was when during the middle of Finland's slideshow, a rather loud and ear rattling heavy metal guitar solo began to play erratically, to which the Finnish man yelled, red faced, for Peter and about "what a whooping" he would receive when he got home. Of course, the usual arguments occurred, but when one had seen them literally several hundred times, the amusement slowly faded away.

Of course, Norway had other things to think about, such as who had violated Iceland and doing such a horrible deed to someone so young. During his intense brooding, Northern Mariana Island had finished, and it was Norway's turn to present.

"Norway, your turn is next," Germany announced, stuffing away the notes that were taken during the presentation before. When the blonde wasn't hearing any shuffling of papers or a chair being moved, Germany looked up to see the nation with his crooked index finger to his lip, staring hard at nothing particular.

"Norway?"

Iceland nudged his brother with an elbow, and when there wasn't a response, hissed, "Norge!"

"Yes, Island?"

"You're up next!"

"Oh."

Germany nodded before saying, "Please, let us get through this as quickly as possible."

"Pardon me," Norway said, picking up his presentation papers and the USB that contained the slideshow he would have to use.

The nation coughed into his fist and smoothing out his suit as he went up to the front of the meeting room.

"Hello, fellow countries," he said, his tone dull as ever, "I'm here to present to you what is currently happening in my home."

A few nations listened intently, jotting down notes and important tidbits here and there, but a majority simply whispered with each other ("Liet, you have to like, try out the dress I bought yesterday! It's totes fantabulous, seriously!"), played the "anything you can do, I can do better" game ("No fair, you Commie Bastard, you cheated!"), slept, or excused themselves into the broom closet for an, ahem, international bonding time (France and England still weren't back yet). All the children the nations had brought along with were in a separate room, where they stayed along with several other micro-nations, provinces, and young territories. The nation who was stuck with baby- sitting duty was Latvia, and all the countries weren't TOO worried about having the young boy taking care of the kids, considering the Baltic nation already had two children.

Finally, after twenty minutes having ticked by, Norway was almost done at last. The last slide finally disappeared from the screen, and Germany announced that it was, at last, break time.

More than ready for a rest, many nations got up from chairs and stretched while others organized files and notes. Even the uptight, blonde German nation smiled slightly as an energetic Italian rushed over and pleaded to go out for pasta. However, all froze when they heard a certain Norwegian clear his throat and pause for permission to speak.

"Er, Norway, weren't you done?" Estonia asked, pushing his glasses up on the bridge of his nose.

Suddenly, coming from the nursery room, there was a loud, high-pitched squeal. No one seemed to recognize it, except one, certain Baltic nation. Who had blonde hair, glasses, and a laptop. Yes, you guessed right!

'"Laaatttvvviiiiaaa!" the Estonian screamed, dashing for his poor wife.

"Eh, anyways, were you about to say something?" Greece asked, still yawning and rubbing away the sand in his eyes.

Norway nodded before sighing and responding, "Yes, and I feel that it is very important for all the nations to listen to this."

Turning, the flaxen haired country turned to point at his younger brother, who currently looked like he wanted to make his volcano erupt again and prevent any of the nations to go home before he made them swear never to tell anyone what Norway was about to inform them of.

"My brother was raped. I want to know who did it. Right now."

There was a complete silence before anyone said anything. Iceland blinked away tears of embarrassment.

"Norway, t-there's no way you can tell who it is. It could have been a citizen or-" America started.

"No. It was a nation. Iceland told me right after this happened," Norway interrupted, his voice cold and as sharp as a steel knife.

America gulped and stepped back slightly as a collective gasp rushed around the meeting room.

"I'll say this only once more. Who. Raped. My. Little. Brother?"

"Nii-chan, stop it!"

The cry cut through the air like a knife, the tension now increasing by tenfold amongst the countries.

"S-stop, nii-chan, please!" Iceland sobbed, his head buried in his hands.

A light click alerted all the nations that someone was entering the meeting room. Everyone held their breaths, until they realized that it was just France and England returning from their more, err… "quickie" personal meetings.

"Did we miss anything?" France asked, brushing his fingers through slightly sweaty blonde curls.

No one said a word.

"Er, Francis, I think someone must have died while we were gone," his English companion said, now fixing his rumpled tie.

Several countries tried to inform the two about what had just occurred at the same time, but of course, everything got out of hand within minutes.

"Everyone, SILENCE!" Germany boomed, taking control of the meeting, again. Turning to Norway he asked, "Norway please tell France and England what exactly they missed."

Nodding, the gray-eyed country repeated what he had said.

"Some country has attacked my little brother a little over a week ago."

"What? It was just a fight Iceland must have gotten into with –"

"My little brother was raped."

Silence ruled the room once again. Even France was speechless.

"How do you know it's a country, not a citizen though, Norway-san?" Japan asked quietly.

"Iceland told me so. Right-" Norway turned to face his brother, "Iceland….?"

The seat where the gossamer haired boy had been sitting in was now empty, a light breeze that seemingly appeared from nowhere whistling through, bringing along a lone dead leaf as well.

"Where's Iceland?"

"Eh, I think he went outside… maple…"

Norway dashed outside, faster than anyone, even Denmark had ever seen. An awkward silence was once again occurring.

"Ay! Romano, help, one of my little turtle bebes is flipped upside down and can't get back up!"

* * *

**Hehehehe, did anyone get the joke? If you do, you guys know just how bad I am at being funny ^3^;;**

**The pairings may be more blatantly obvious in the next chapter, which I'll try to start on as soon as I am done with One Day We'll Know. Yeah, I hate not finishing things, and if I ever put a hiatus on any of my stories, I'll tell you guys.**

**Till next time~**


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